


Growing Old

by ontheraggin



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabble, Future, Gen, M/M, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:12:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ontheraggin/pseuds/ontheraggin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Horuss starts to realize how quickly Rufoh ages in comparison to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Old

**Author's Note:**

> (A drabble from a Horuss rp blog I run. He has a wriggler named Equiis, thus the mention of him.)

> You come back to the hive, sweating up a storm and huffing a little. Ah, you weren’t as young as you used to be, but you really had no reason to be puffing this way… Oh well. The thought is out of your mind as soon as you went to find your moirail in the kitchen, eating something or another.

"Ah, seems like Equiis has taken after me quite well. He’s building robots, though he’s sparring with them. Which explains how he blew out his wall… But I told you it wouldn’t take long to rebuild it with our combined efforts."

> You smile fondly to him. Rufioh sat in a wheelchair you had made special for him, his now grey wings crumpled behind him. His slow, tired smile to you makes your heart both melt and sink at the same time. You were still in your prime. Him… well…

"I need to get to work on that machine to help your respiratory system now. Perhaps I’ll add something to monitor a bit of your blood as well… I-I know you don’t quite like it, but it’ll help you quite a bit."

> It took you a while to convince him to take to the chair. Even then, he refuses to stay in it all day, which you really wish he would do. He’s already given up on using his wings, you really cannot blame him for refusing to give up on his legs. You’re always nearby, though. Always close to lend a strong hand, always close enough to watch every move he made. You refused to miss any moment you had left with him, really, but your son pleaded with you and between the two of them bullying you, you had to cave in.

> But now, you’re home. You lean to press a gentle kiss to his temple, smiling fondly to him as he looks back up to you and jokes lightly. ‘Thinkin about dying my hair again, think red would look good on white?’ He’s not been able to dye his hair for a while, and the last time you did it for him it wound up a mess for both of you.

"Of horse… Anything would look good on you, Rufioh."

> You kneel down as he spreads his arms open to you, lowering your head onto his shoulder and accepting the frail hug, always afraid to return it now lest you break something. But still, your broad hands rest on his back and you let him lean heavily against you. His soft breaths turn into raspy wheezes, soon followed by a hoarse snore. He’s seemed to develop narcolepsy, you’ve learned. Perhaps you can build something that can fix that, or at least monitor it.

> You’ll carry him to the bedroom soon, but you just want to stay there in his arms right now. Tears silently fall over your cheeks as you keep him close to you. You’ll build something. Anything. You’ll do whatever you can to keep him with you just one day longer.


End file.
